


Butterfly Effect

by minimoonp



Series: Battle of the Soul [8]
Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 16:54:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13885080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minimoonp/pseuds/minimoonp
Summary: If things were a little different, how would it go? Better or worse?





	1. Pt.1

Isn't it nice for family to wait for you? Momo and Cisza, the perfect duo. So where the heck was Cisza?

Everyone had just dispersed after having the conversation of a life time. 'Kill or be killed,' that was the nature of this game, and boy did she not want to play it. Especially not alone. It seemed Cisza hadn't felt the same however and decided to not wait for her.

Momo shook her head. No, Cisza would never leave her hanging, killing game or not. Something must have happened... The thought nagging at her greatly, she tried to shake it away by finally opening the bag she was given at the start.

Open the bag, peek inside, a vest of some sort, along with a empty canteen, a small bag of trail mix, and a map. She slid the vest over her shirt, and closed the pack with the rest of her supplies inside. As she was putting the pack across her back, she heard a voice.

She almost thought it Cisza-- Or at least she wanted it to be, but why would he be calling out for himself?

"Cisza?"

The voice was closer now, and she could just barely make out some red hair among the trees. Ichigo? No, no, Hiniku, this was no place for familiarities and nicknames. She took a few steps back, hiding her small frame behind the nearest tree. As he finally came into view, she saw an axe in his hands and an intent in his eyes, both spelled murder. She covered her mouth, keeping any words or whimpers from escaping. Cisza had been there, she knew this now, but Hiniku had gotten there first and so Cisza hightailed it. She needed to do the same.

There was little room for error. Momo needed to find a way around her strawberry headed acquaintance, but she had honestly boxed herself in. Why didn't she check her bag after she was certain she was safe? As she took a few calculated steps back she reminded herself that nowhere was safe and she had already made her choices. No past, just present, and at present she had gotten a good 2 feet away. At the third, she ran into a patch of crunchy leaves underfoot, and Hiniku whipped his head towards the sound. Bitter purple eyes met wide purple eyes, and she took off without batting a single one. Of course a person of her stature could only run so fast, and Hiniku was quickly closing the gap.

Risking a glance behind, she saw him poised to swing and her breath caught in her throat. She pumped her legs harder, but then she felt no ground beneath her and Hiniku's axe just barely missed her head, cutting off the ends of her hair instead as she went tumbling face first off down a sloped path. She screeched loudly as thick roots and weeds scratched her face and arms, and she was pretty sure her ankle twisted weirdly somewhere along the way and she blacked out for a few seconds as she hit the bottom, laying still even as she came to, her mind still trying to register the pain. Body screaming, she stretched her hearing as far as it could go, listening for footsteps.

...

...

...

He wasn't coming to make sure she was dead, he was sure of it, and so was she.


	2. pt 2

Open the bag, peek inside, pull out a… really long knife. Squirrel was pretty sure this was called a machete. What was she supposed to do with it? She paused. Stupid question, she knew what she was supposed to do with it, but she didn’t want to. She wasn’t going to kill her friends. No, no, no.

She stared at the blade with shaky hands. Wow, she wished Sarah were here, or Momo, maybe even-

A hand placed itself on her shoulder firmly and she let out a garbled, grungy scream, letting the knife slip from her grasp. She was whipped around, meeting Cisza face to face. Speak of the devil. No, she would call him that ever, but his eyes were looking a bit red; his face was flushed too. Had he been crying?

‘It’s just you. You startled me. Are you ok?’ She signed. Her translator necklace had been confiscated during the beginning of the game, she missed it, but at least she could get by without it just this once.

Cisza finally took his hands off of her shoulders, with a sharp sigh. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration before signing back.

'So casual. What if I was here to-“ he dropped his hands, quickly discontinuing his sentence. 'What if I wasn’t here to be friendly?’

'Because you’re all bark and no bite, just like your favorite puppy.’ Squirrel responded, with a chuckle like smile.

His eyebrows knit together, giving an odd expression. She gave him too much credit. Though she wasn’t completely wrong, he was not there for her exactly but what she had.  
He didn’t even bother to respond to her statement, pointing at her fallen machete.

'Let me have that.’

She glanced down and her smile faltered.

'Why do you want that?' she asked.

He frowned. 'You know why I want it. Give it to me. I'm not going to hurt you over it, but I need it. You can even swap out with my swiss army knife, I just need something bigger.'

Cisza reached in his pocket and pulled out his utility knife. It had plenty of uses, but it just didn't have the one he needed.

'Cisza no. You don't have to play this game, y-you don't have to...' he hands had started shaking again, and it was making signing hard. 'We can find Sarah, and Momo, and-'  
He put his hands over hers, holding them tight. He wouldn't look her in the eye. Letting her hands go and stepping around her.

'We won't be finding Momo...'

He picked up the large knife from the ground, as she clawed at her shirt, a habit she'd picked up from grasping her necklace out of nervousness.  
She made a small, pained gurgle. She was at a loss for words and signs. Honestly, she could barely see, tears beginning to sting her eyes. She rubbed at them fiercely with one hand as Cisza placed his utility knife in the other. She dropped it as if it had burned her.

She reached for him, and gripped at his sweater, a wordless urge for him not to go. Unfortunately, her grip slipped as he glanced back at her, his eyes cold as ice. To her surprise, he mumbled an apology at her, so quiet she almost missed it before he disappeared as quiet as could be.

And so she was alone once more. Nothing but herself, and her small knife, and the pain of her heart.


End file.
